I remain quiet, only nodding.
“He didn’t believe me at first until he looked at your mom. Apparently, she was aware of the firm’s view on promoting those with stable lives.”
“Marriage doesn’t mean you’re stable,” scoffs Clancy. “Idiots.”
“I agree,” Billy says, looking in his rearview mirror. “I think when your mom acknowledged this fact, your dad started to believe me.”
There was silence. Luckily, Clancy broke that up. “Then what?”
“Your dad looked at Gisele and asked her if it was true. I’m sure she was about to lie, but I stopped her by saying that it was over. I wasn’t going to play along, and that if she didn’t come clean to her own parents, then I’d be forced to take action. I’d have to speak to someone at the firm.”
“Take action? What does that mean?”
“Honestly, I figured I’d just talk to my boss at the firm and let the chips fall as they may.”
Clancy asks, “But Gisele didn’t want that, right?”
“Of course not.” I roll my eyes and want to cry from the pain. “She wouldn’t want a scene at work.” But one at home? That’s fine.
“No. You’re right. She started to cry. Your mom consoled her, but your dad grew impatient. She finally fessed up.”
“Then what?” asked Clancy. It’s the same question I had.
“Your mom did more consoling, and your dad went into the garage.”
“Did either of them ask about Jo? Did they want to know where she went?”
I wish she hadn’t asked that question. I know the answer. I reach into my purse to peek at my phone, hoping one of them attempted to text me, to ask me to come back home, but there was nothing new there. The thought that my parents had so little regard for me hurts more than I can explain. That’s why, when I started to cry again, I didn’t care.
* * *
“You’ve got a scratched cornea.We’ll flush your eye out with sterile saline first. I’ll prescribe an eye drop that will help with the pain. It’ll numb your eye. You’ll also need an antibiotic drop for your eye as well as a cream for your facial abrasions. Follow up with your regular doctor in seven to ten days, but if you’re still uncomfortable, visiting your ophthalmologist is recommended. Don’t mess around with something like this even though it’s just a scratch, Josephine.”
“Okay.” I’m hearing what the doc is saying, but I’m not absorbing it.
When I step out into the waiting area, I’m surprised to see my father sitting next to Clancy reading a magazine about fishing. He doesn’t fish. Next to him is Billy.
Stepping closer, I clear my throat. “Dad?”
I look at Clancy, who has guilt written all over her face. “Sorry,” she mouths. Great. She called my dad.
Lowering the magazine, he winces when he sees me. I know my eye is a deep red color and my cheek is a little swollen. “Gisele did that?” He nods to my face.
“Yeah.”
“Bitch,” Clancy mutters.
Dad stands and walks toward me. Looking down, he gives me a small smile. “I’m sorry, Jo. I’m not sure why we always assume your sister is the one—”
“Dad.” I look up at him. “I’m only going to say this one more time. She always blamed me for shit I had nothing to do with, and you and Mom…” I feel the tears burn. “Youstillbelieve her. Like the time she wrecked Mom’s car. She told you I’d distracted her. I wasn’t even with her. That time you and Mom went to Hawaii? I didn’t throw that party. I was at Clancy’s. I never took your credit card or the change from the top of your dresser. That was all Gisele.” There are at least a dozen more instances like that, but I’m tired.
Dad is still staring at me, blinking. What did I expect him to do? Apologize for grounding me, taking away my phone, not letting me spend time with Clancy? Well, he should because those were all punishments I got all thanks to my sister.
“You never once let me defend myself. Not once. You just took her word for it every single time.” Now I’m getting mad. “And this time, it was the last time I’m going to let it happen. The fact that you think I’m the kind of person who would knowingly sleep with my sister’s boyfriend hurts more than you’ll ever know. It tells me you know nothing about me. That you never have. Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore, Dad. I’ll get my stuff, and I’ll be out of there by tonight.”
Turning away from him, I step up to the counter and pay the bill. It’s really the last of my money, but that’s okay. I’ll figure it out. I always do.
Turning back, I half expect my dad to be there with open arms, telling me how sorry he is, but he’s gone.
